FE Blazing Blade: Rebirth
by Lionhoundz
Summary: Lyn has lived an empty existence since tragedy struck her tribe years ago. Yet an encounter with a boy of unknown origins and with his help, Lyn will regain what she lost and learn that the world is larger and far more unforgiving than she thought. Learning that doing what's right, isn't always what's best. More pessimistic and realistic Mark.
1. Prologue

**Sup guys. I'm creating this story cause these two don't get enough love.** **After reading the highs and lows of Fanfiction, I decided to give it a shot. I don't plan to stop something and leaving it unfinished.** **Please review and comment on the story as your feedback is important.**

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" _Put the flames out!" Someone shouted._

" _Get the women and children away from here!" Another yelled._

" _Organize the men, we'll hold them off to give them time!" Father ordered._

 _Lyn!" My mother screamed._

Lyn bolted upright in her bedroll, panting heavily. She looked around, searching for her surroundings frantically, ensuring that she wasn't reliving her suffering of the past within the realm of dreams. Regaining her bearings, she took stock of the minimalist decor of her tent.

The frailing, bear bedroll she slept on. Her satchels containing her supplies: herbs, food, bow and other necessities for nomadic living. Her sword, lay near her while she slept, within arms distance should the need arise during these hostile times. She signed heavily with relief, running her hand through her unknotted hair.

 _Just a nightmare. Just like the others._

Regaining her composure, Lyn began the unbroken cycle that is her life. Arise, clean up, tend to Valiant, her horse, hunt, sleep and repeat. Sure there would be an occasional break in her cycle when visiting nearby settlements, traveling merchants and such however most days were the same. Packing up her tent and moving to greener pastures, bartering with traveling caravans or interacting with the sometimes unfriendly, sometimes welcoming but mostly suspicious fellow tribesmen that shared the Sacae plains with her. However, it was usually an endless cycle of directionless existence with a perpetual, suffocating loneliness that greatly plagues her every day. Her tribe was scattered after being raided by bandits, her parents killed during the raid, with her, the chieftain's daughter, unable to unite the tribe under her leadership due to the tribe's patriarchal society. They scoffed, some laughed and others sneered at her attempt to take the position her father held and splintered off into different groups which led to the end of the Lorca tribe.

Only she remained.

After awakening, changing into her Lorca garments, holstering her sword and grabbing her bow. Lyn exited the tent to being her routine. She approached Valiant nearby, her horse as he fed on the lush grass of the plains.

"Good morning," she whispered softly to him with a small smile gracing her features. Valiant simply rose his head in greeting, continuing to chew on grass. Despite the loneliness she felt from the lack of human companionship, she never felt truly alone with Valiant as a company.

"Come now, we must check on the snares and scout the area." She said as she mounted him. With a swish of the simple saddle Valiant wore, they were off to check yesterday's traps. Being born and raised within the plains, she was taught her how to survive off it.

" _The plains are abundant with sustenance Lyn, they have provided for Lorca for generations so therefore we must respect it."_ Were her father's lessons to her during their outings into the plains. Oh, how she wished for those days to return.

The snares proved exceptionally bountiful today. Five traps to four hares. Lyn smiled at her small achievement. It was moments like these that brought her a small amount of joy to her lonely days. Resetting the snares, Lyn continued her routine which was to now scout the area for potential game or danger. Despite the relative peace with the plains, bandits were a problem to tribes that inhabitants it and traveling merchants. Bandits she never faced in person but heard off through others. Their barbarity, cruelty, and disregard for others. Just the thought of them brought her blood to a boil. Lyn's thoughts were cut off when she suddenly noticed tracks on the ground. Dismounting, she noticed they were deer tracks.

"Large imprints, adult? Fresh imprints as well, passed through about three hours ago. Droppings were large, adult. And...wet. Nearby?" Lyn drew her bow, mud around the prints and droppings were moist. It was nearby, she was sure of it. Being in the plains had its disadvantages when it came to hunting deer. They would see, smell and hear her before she saw them. Leaving Valiant behind, Lyn carefully followed the trail, keeping an eye out for movement and staying downwind. Thirty minutes of tracking and the tracks told her she was getting close. Approaching and looking down the peek of a small mound is when she saw it. A large buck with large antlers. Raising her bow and nocking an arrow, she aimed. But the buck was interested in something on the ground, nudging at a figure Lyn could not see. Squinting her eyes she noticed the figure had a shape and...arms and legs? Being cautious that it wasn't a trap by bandits or worst a beast, Lyn slowly approached the figure. Noticing her approach, the buck looked up then bolted into the plains. Disregarding her fleeing game, Lyn continued to approach the body.

" _Are they even alive?"_ she wondered. Though it was uncommon to see the bodies of travelers within the plains after brigands or sickness took them, it was still a rare occurrence.

What struck her as odd was the entire area around the figure was scorched in a circular fashion, a sharp contrast to the lush green pasture. Upon closer inspection, Lyn noticed the body was small in size and covered in dirt, with the attire consisting of a green cloak that enveloped their frame. The person's hair was white as snow and skin complexion was an odd dark tan as if they were exposed to the sun too long. Yet despite its stillness, closer inspection revealed the person was still breathing yet it was shallow. Quickly Lyn placed two fingers in her mouth and whistle into the air in the direction where she came from then turned her attention to the person. Kneeling down and rolling them over, Lyn took stock of their face. It was a male she noticed, with chapped lips, a dirt-smeared face, with dried blood trickling down his lip and hollow cheeks as if he hadn't eaten in days. He even had sand in his hair which Lyn noticed was odd as there was no sand in the plains. Underneath his gaunt features, Lyn could see the features that stood out in contrast: unblemished skin, short spiky hair, angular chin, and boyish as if he was younger than her. The approaching of hooves meant that Valiant had heard her call and was arriving, making a quick decision Lyn thus intended to look after the boy's well being. Lyn could not leave someone defenseless and starving in the plains in good conscious. It was not the way her tribe as she was thaught that Sacaens were generous and compassionate. Picking him up proved an easy affair as he was incredibly light.

"Spirits, how starved is he?" she whispered. His only reply was a grunt to the movement. "At least your somewhat aware," she said placing him on Valiant. With him up front and her behind she wrapped her arm around his waist and set off back to her tent.

"I'll take care of you. I promise."

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 **Sorry for the long intro, I want to place detail into Lyn's day to day life. As a new writer, I'm not sure how detailed I want to make it so it won't impede the flow.**

 **I want to include monsters and more ideas into the story as I don't want it to be generic as the main story but I also don't want it to deviate from the core content. After playing the Witcher, Elder Scrolls and Divinity Original Sin I want to include monsters and beasts into the story to flesh out Elibe, making it more dangerous and hostile than it is. Just not sure as I may have to make the story longer and more detailed. Let me know what you think.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Well, this is harder than I thought it would be but I'm still at it! I do feel I could have made the first Chapter longer by adding this to it. Oh well. I'll just revise it a bit to streamline it better. Now on to the story.**

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Two days have passed since he was found unconscious in the plains, her guest hasn't awakened. Lyn was no healer but she did what she learned from her mother, who used to be the head tribal healer. Removing his cloak revealed a snug, high collar, black long-sleeved shirt with ornate buttons running down the front, dark slacks that ended within brown boots. His hands bore black leather gloves that seems to be of high quality. Used to seeing the male gender at various stages of undress from her time with her mother, she continued to remove his clothing to check his condition.

Upon removing his shirt she froze. There were scars. Many scars adorned his chest. While his face seemed young and innocent as if unmarred by life, his chest told a different story. Multiple scars, shallow and deep covered his torso. His arms were free of such punishment except for his hands and knuckles which were calloused. Rolling him onto his back revealed the worst of it, as the scars were larger and more grotesque. Long crisscrossed marks marred his back in a repeating pattern which seemed to have healed terribly, causing the scars to stand out. Lyn clamped a hand over her mouth in horror and faced away from the disturbing sight. Looking back she felt pain and pity for someone so young to have suffered so much. Taking a deep breath to regain her composure and steeling herself, she continued.

Removing his pants, luckily, revealed fewer wounds than above, only a few scrapes and cuts. Rolling him back she noticed something else underneath the scars. "No wonder he's so light," Lyn observed. "He's small, so thin and malnourished, but...", though he was indeed small, shorter than her it seems, he had an impressive physique. It was well toned with muscle with little fat as if he was built to fight.

"What happened to you…" she whispered, confused. How can someone built to fight be found in such a battered state?

No weapons were found only a satchel containing a journal written in an odd language, round contraptions with a piece of rope sticking out of the tops, two bottles with different colored liquid and a necklace adorned with a medallion with the symbol of the sun.

Taking stoke of the boy and his belongings, its as if he fell out of the sky.

Sighing in relief that there were no bleeding wounds that needed to be treated and further confusion at the situation. Lyn proceeded to wash the stranger clean of grim before placing him in her bedroll in clean garments. Lyn kept watching over him when she could, leaving only to gather food or get supplies from merchants or nearby tribes. To say she was anxious was an understatement. Her guest's condition had yet to improve aside from his breathing becoming normal and face regaining color. She felt as if she was useless and incapable to provide the care for he needed to recover, a feeling she did not like. Lyn saw herself as capable, independent and resourceful. Proud of her heritage, able to handle any situation head-on through sheer will alone. Yet that feeling was waning as time passed as she was at a loss on how to proceed.

Already having spent most of the morning looking over the boy, Lyn exited the tent to tend to her chores before noon and believing occupying herself will do some good to her nerves.

"I'll be back," she told him. Something she did every time she left his side as if he can hear him. To reassure him that she won't abandon him like whatever force abandoned him in the plains.

Despite the morbid situation, Lyn was secretly ecstatic to have a deviation from her routine, to have someone else to talk to even if he didn't reply to her comments about mundane things such as her day had gone and what she learned from neighboring tribes. It seems the dark clouds that hung over her days were lifted and she found herself looking at her guest at times and smiling for no reason. Lyn was always told she was naturally a caring and thoughtful person since her youth. Always empathizing with those around her. A trait her mother said she got from her mother.

"You'll make a great mother one-day dear," her mother would say, "You care for your fellow tribesmen as if they were your own children." A smile on her face and pride in her eyes.

Squandering those thoughts before her mood fell, Lyn began gathering her laundry to take inside the tent. Walking back inside, Lyn gasped at what she saw. Her guest was massaging his forehead and grunted in pain with every movement. Dropping the laundry she rushed to his side.

"Are you awake?" she wanted to smack herself at her question. Of course, he's awake!

He removed his hand and looked at her. Lyn stared at his eyes in surprise. His eyes were a warm shade of gold, like the color of the sun at dawn or dusk. It made her want to move closer to gaze better yet also move away. Despite their enchanting look, there was a haunted quality behind them. As if they've seen horrors she could not fathom and did not want to know. He continued to stare at her with a blank expression and Lyn broke from her thoughts as if her worth was being judged

"I...I found you unconscious in the plains." she stammered out.

He frowned at her words. Looking at his surroundings, himself, then back at her.

"Where am I and who are you?" he croaked out as if he hadn't spoken for weeks. Lyn jumped at the sound of his voice. It was soft, proper with a distinct accent she couldn't pick out. Yet it was also hollow, emotionless, and revealing nothing.

"You're in the Sacean plains," she replied. He frowned more at her in confusion. "I am Lyndis, of the Lorca tribe. You're safe here," she said. Something flashed in his eyes at that moment. Recognition? Remembrance? She wasn't sure. What followed was more staring as if he was seeing ghosts.

Feeling brave, she decided to ask questions. "Who are you? Can you remember your name?"

He sat up then, flinching and placing his hand to his head as if in pain.

"Easy there, I've been unconscious for two days. You were in bad shape when I found you." she reprimanded softly. "You should...,"

"You should be more careful, it's dangerous to give your name and hospitality freely to strangers, Lyndis of Lorca." Came his snide reply, cutting off what she was about to say, "Especially for little girls alone in the plains." Ignoring her concern while raising an eyebrow and keeping his frown. Lyn just stared at his face in disbelief at his words.

Did he just say that? This ungrateful little shi...

Lyn was compassionate and respectful to others but she did not tolerate disrespect nor demeaning comments. She was not a _little girl_. Something in her burned at such a comment. After the care she'd given this _boy_ and worry she felt fretting over his well being for days, to lead to this? Squaring her shoulders, she looked at her guest in _her tent_ square in the eyes. "Well boy," he scowled now, she didn't care, "I think it's more dangerous to disrespect a Lorcan's hospitality after you were found _alone_ and _near death_ in the fields, then nursed back to health by this _little girl_ ," she hissed out within an emphasis on words she wanted to drive home. Let it be said Lyn knew how to give what was given. She had her mother's pride after all. He continued to stare at her, frowning at her in annoyance at her snark and she stared back with equal annoyance, resisting the urge smack him upside the head at his blatant disrespect.

Suddenly, his frown dropped and if she wasn't focusing on his face, she would have missed it. His lips twitched upwards and eyes lit up in amusement with what Lyn could only guess as approval or acknowledgment. Likely both. As if she passed a test. It was as if Lyn was speaking to an entirely different person than the one moments ago. "Mark, Lyndis of Lorca, my name is Mark," Mark replied with what she can determine to be respected.

At this moment, as she gazed upon this snarky yet foreign, interesting boy she now knew as Mark. Lyn didn't know why she did what she did next but she smiled her first real smile that even reached her eyes, in years.

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 **Went well** **methinks. I wanted Lyn to be kind and considerate yet bold and proud of herself. Not taking Mark's snarky attitude without dishing it back or folding. That's what I want to build between the two. Complimenting each other's habits. As the saying goes, If someone strikes you, strike back twice as hard or something. Anyway, added some original dialogue from the core game to not deviate too much. But don't worry it won't be cut and paste. Next Chapter should be up by Monday night, got a template set up already. Alas, school and work are in the way. So is life. Review and comment, please. Your advise and critique is necessary.**


	3. Chapter 2

Greetings readers, sorry for the delay as life has been keeping me occupied and I did hit a block. I now know how hard it is to write a story and maneuver it in the direction I want it to go. It's a work in progress truly. But now I have new inspiration to continue this. I know the prologue and chapter one was wordy but I wanted to test the waters and build up the beginning. I promise you it will pick up and it will deviate from canon a reasonable amount.

Now the next chapter.

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Looking out at the plains, Mark considered his situation. Once the problem was identified and understood, Mark accepted it but with a great amount of frustration. He was not supposed to be here, in the Sacean Plains, so far away from his mission. Yet he couldn't do anything about. Also, Mark can vaguely remember what happened that caused him to be here only that he was warped to the other side of the continent. Only that _they_ were in a skirmish with the loyalists.

"I need to make my way back," he thought to himself. "The rest of them won't last long without me."

Despite his grim thoughts, Mark knew he had to recover first before he can do anything and continued to look out towards the plains, oddly feeling some semblance of peace for the first time in his life. He had heard rumors of the Sacean plains being unlike any other area on the continent. Expansive, quiet, and peaceful. Seeing far beyond the horizon at nothing but enticed, nonetheless, to continue staring. Just being here he felt some weight lifted off his shoulders from his responsibilities and his body relaxing slightly.

It's beautiful.

"Mark, did you hear me?" Lyn beckoned to him.

Mark broke from his revere and stared back at Lyn who was packing her belongings to move the camp. Today they focused on catching up chores Lyn had been neglecting due to caring for him and Mark deciding to help as they were now living for two and he wanted to be useful as repayment.

Mark always paid his dues.

"Apologize Lyn, I was distracted." He replied.

Lyn cocked her head to the side searching his face for answers that Mark rarely gave away. The more time in his company, the more Lyn learned Mark's quirks. Lyn realized Mark was a quiet person by nature and rarely spoke, yet he was an attentive listener as he would recall little details of their conversations that slipped her mind. His face also gave little away when they spoke. Most off all was that Mark spoke in a proper and dignified way, which Lyn only heard amongst the wealthy merchants of the towns she rarely frequented or came across within the plains.

"I'll accept your apology if you tell me what distracted you as repayment for ignoring me." She teased with a smile.

Mark tilted his head at her, ignoring her teasing and look back out at the plains. Lyn frowned at being rebuffed but was used to his blank expressions and rebuffs and simply waited for his response.

He did not disappoint.

"I've never seen the Sacaen Plains before. I've seen grand deserts, thunderous mountains and large lush cities from my travels across the continent. But this, never have I seen such a beautiful and captivating site." He said with emotion, Lyn could only make out as awe.

Lyn's chest swelled with pride at his words. For someone who has traveled far and wide, to state this as the most amazing thing they've seen spoke highly of the plains she loves.

"It is. I've lived here all my life, I've always loved it and always will. It's my home," she answered. "Where do you hail from Mark? Where do you call home? What do you do?" she asked, eager to learn something about him.

Mark didn't answer. Every personal question Lyn broached to him was either ignored or diverted which made it frustrating for her to form some sort of connection with her companion. There are few in her life she calls a friend and Lyn is a sociable person when the opportunity arises, opportunity as in not being labeled as a savage by ignorant city dwellers or travelers. Worst of all were the merchants. The opposite can be said about her companion. Today was the most he spoke to her in days since he awoke. On most days, Mark was either brooding or silently helping around camp.

Lyn scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. Valiant was more personable than this. As if reading her thoughts, Valiant looked at her, at Mark, snorted and continued grazing.

"I must leave soon," Mark replied.

Not what she asked and not what she expected.

"What?"

"I've stayed here too long. After I've assisted with moving the camp, I will be leaving."

Lyn panicked, searching for the right words.

"Why? You should stay longer until you're in better health."

Mark turned to look at Lyn with a raised eyebrow. He couldn't understand her reluctance, but he had some idea based on his observation of the young Lorcan. It's a lonely existence she has for herself here, one he knew all too well. Being different than most of the populace tended to bring negative attention from the ignorant and the cruel. So much that one would avoid outside contact or contact altogether.

"I'm a traveler Lyndis, I don't stay in one place too long," Mark replied. "Also, I'm needed elsewhere."

"But they're so much more I wish to learn about you," she said as she drew closer, standing in front of him. Lyn stood a half a head taller than Mark, so he looked up into her eyes as she spoke looking down. "Lyn," Mark signed then mumbled, "I'd rather not talk about myself."

Underneath his neutral tone, Lyn made out the weariness and placed a hand on his shoulder as a show of support. Mark flinched at the contact and stiffened visibly causing her to withdraw her hand.

"Sorry."

A moment of silence later.

"Is it…," hesitating but continuing on, "Is it because of your scars?"

Mark frowned at that and his lipped thinned in response. "Of course, you saw those."

"Mark you were hurt in the past by others, I understand that. I also understand what it means to be and be treated differently. I also know how difficult it is to be open to others afterward."

"Do you?" he said incredulously and disbelief.

"I do Mark, wounds don't have to be physical to leave scars. Something I understand as much as you." She replied patiently with a lost look in her eyes, inching closer. "I know we barely know each other, but I'm here if you wish to share your burdens."

That gave Mark a pause. "Indeed, they don't. Yet how can I believe what you say?" This conversation is not going where he wants it to go. Yet Lyndis's words and expression did make him pause. Looking into her compassionate and caring eyes made him want to share his woes.

"A lady of the Sacae plain never lies."

Mark searched her eyes for any sign of deception, which Lyn took with a small amount of disappointment that he even mistrusted her, but she understood his reluctance.

 _What kind of life did you live? I want to know._ Was her burning question.

He signed, "Lyn, listen, it's not joy-filled tale…"

They both paused and turned their heads towards the sound of shouts and clashing weapons that were heard over the hill to the west of them. Looking back at each other with raised eyebrows then frowns, they rushed to the summit. From above they saw what seemed to be a nearby village being raided.

"Bandits," Lyn sneered with clenched teeth. Mark raised an eyebrow at Lyn's anger.

 _Interesting._

She ran back to her tent and retrieved her sword. "They must have traveled down from the Bern mountains to raid the village. I will not let this happen. Stay here Mark, it's safer here. I'll handle them." Lyn said with determination.

Mark looked down at the grip she had on her sword which was shaking, with anger or nerves he wasn't positive. Likely the latter.

"Right…listen, let me assist you Lyn, I'm a tactician by trade. Bandits are stupid, but all are fools and I can use that to our advantage."

Lyn looks at him with surprise. "You're a strategist? Odd profession. Can you use a sword?"

"I'm not a fighter, I prefer battles of the mind over brawn."

She looked down at his chest then back up at him in disbelief. Mark looked back with a raised brow in confusion.

"Very well, we'll do this together!" Lyn stated with greater vigor.

Mark smirked. _Show me what the famous sword masters of Sacae can do Lyn._


End file.
